


Into the Woods

by zinjadu



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Season 3, Guy joins the gang.  Written a while ago, rehosting my fic here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Woods

Guy hated the woods. It reminded him too much of when he was poor, living from moment to moment with Isabella always complaining about how hungry and cold she was. Because now he was hungry and cold and wet more often than not. No one had ever told him how _damp_ these woods were, holding in every drop of moisture. The only way he was ever warm was around the fire Hood and his little band had, but he was never really welcome there. It was more than a little obvious.

Then there was the walking everywhere. They couldn't risk keeping any of the horses they stole, on account of them being large beasts to feed and difficult to camouflage. So he walked, and his feet got tired and damp because his boots were starting to fall apart and the water got in and wouldn't ever come out.

And it wasn't as though they could walk into a village or the markets in Nottingham and buy what they needed. No, that wouldn't be possible. Besides, they would steal what they needed from the guards men's store room.

Guy sighed, walking around and gathering up firewood.

In spite of everything, he liked this part best; getting away from the rest of them. Hood was tolerable, and at least familiar. Much was easy to ignore. Tuck was difficult to ignore, but at least he wasn't openly hostile. John seemed to have been won over. He didn't care about Kate.

Still, being around them set his teeth on edge, so he wandered when he could.

There was one thing he liked about the forest. It was quiet. Peaceful in some places. With his one free hand he traced the patterns of bark on a tree, not that he could tell anyone what kind of tree it was. Though he would always be guilty of so very many, many things, the forest didn't care. It wrapped up all manner of sins and let him forget, if only for a little while, lost in the soft buzzing of insects and the play of light through the canopy.

But after too long he would shake himself out it, cursing himself for thinking such womanish thoughts and tromp back to camp where he would unceremoniously drop the armful of firewood and curl up in his bunk with his back to everyone.

He didn't expect to be here long, just long enough to get the job done.


End file.
